Douglas Kalajian, author of Stories My Father Never Finished Telling Me, shares his thoughts about being Armenian, writing and whatever else comes to mind.

"His polished, sometimes even poetic prose evokes a sense of curiosity and lament. In response to his family’s silence—and to the silence of a whole people still shellshocked by their grim treatment—Kalajian has become a professional storyteller and an excellent one at that."—Kirkus Reviews

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Do you ever feel Uprooted? Armenians around the world know what it's like, and we're still learning to deal with the consequences

Hagop Goudsouzian’s first trip to
Armenia was clearly a homecoming, even though he had never been there before.

His great-grandparents fled the smothering
Ottoman realm in the 19th century and the family settled in Egypt,
where Goudsouzian was born. He was living in Canada, focused on his budding
career as a filmmaker, when he became riveted by the turbulent events that led
to Armenia’s renewed independence in 1991.

Goudsouzian felt compelled to go to
Armenia in search of his “forgotten and sometimes ignored” identity. Nearly a
quarter century later, he is still exploring the meaning of that identity—and,
as his films show, he has plenty of company.

His first foray resulted in the
documentary Armenian Exile. He
followed with My Son Shall Be Armenian,
documenting a trip to Armenia and Syria with other descendants of Genocide
survivors. His latest film, Uprooted,
completes what he calls his Armenian Trilogy.

Along the way, however, Goudsouzian
has explored the bond between Armenia’s culture and its national identity in
other films, including this three-part Armenian Echoes series that details
efforts to preserve Armenia’s musical heritage.

Goudsouzian’s films, which are available on DVD or pay-per-view streaming on HagopGoudsouzian.com, are marked by
unusual intimacy and visual honesty. The viewer becomes part of the filmmaker’s
conversations with folks he’s gotten to know and whom he clearly admires for
their determination to survive as a people, not just as individuals.

These aren’t travelogues, carefully
framed to showcase Armenia’s extraordinary beauty. We meet people with broken
teeth but unbroken spirits, villagers who carry buckets of water up rocky
hillsides and artists who carry the immense burden of capturing the spirit of a
nation that is always so close to extinction.

I was engaged by Uprooted the moment I read the title. I
think Armenians venerate their land more than most because they’ve been torn
from it as well as torn apart from each other.

As Goudsouzian notes in the film’s
opening, Armenia is home to only about a quarter of the world’s 12 million
Armenians. How is it possible to sustain a culture when life in the Diaspora
becomes the default? Clearly, the homeland must lead the effort. It is an
extraordinary obligation for a poor country where mere survival demands great exertion.

Goudsouzian’s work suggests the
effort required to perpetuate Armenian culture may be far greater than many of
us in the Diaspora realize. We romanticize the homeland by imagining that our
spirit springs from its soil, but culture is created and
carried by humans. So the human loss suffered over the centuries inevitably drained
Armenia’s cultural pool. As a result, Armenians have to repeatedly regenerate
their culture in order to carry it forward.

One of the most interesting aspects
of Uprooted is its exploration of the
blurred line between the Diaspora and the homeland. In a very real way, Armenia
is the Diaspora because much of the nation’s
population is descended from Genocide survivors who fled East rather than West.
One man speaks emotionally of coming from Sasun, now in Turkey, yet he
eventually reveals that he was born after his family came to Armenia. What
matters more to him is that he feels he is from Sasun, so he is compelled to
relate the story of life in that time and place while keeping the memory alive.

I think the most challenging
question raised by Uprooted and
Goudsouzian’s other films is: What makes someone Armenian? No one offers a
definitive answer, perhaps because there is none. But just about everyone
acknowledges that the reality of our uprooted and scattered people is that
identity can’t be based on birth place, or even language. Yet there must be
more than just lineage if the Armenian identity is to survive in any meaningful
way.

I know many who believe feeling
Armenian is enough, but Uprooted
suggests a more active role is necessary. Even if you don’t speak Armenian you
can learn an Armenian song, or prayer. Cook something you remember from your
grandmother’s table. Tell as much as you know of your family’s story to your
children.

We are not like other people who have to search for their roots; we carry ours with us, because we have no choice. If we work at it, we can nurture them to take hold wherever we find ourselves in this world.

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Who's Douglas Kalajian?

After more than 30 years as an editor, reporter and feature writer at various newspapers, I'm using many of those same skills along with a few new ones to tell stories and connect with readers and viewers in different ways. For example, I write books. I'm particularly excited about independent publishing and have released Stories My Father Never Finished Telling Me as the first title under my own imprint. See my author page for more about my books and me. I also write occasional reviews and profiles for Independent Film Quarterly. And in my spare time, I'm co-producer of TheArmenianKitchen.com. I help test recipes and write about the secrets and delights of Armenian cooking. I appear in and produce the site's videos, which are also posted on my popular YouTube channel.